Avenging Anya
by Admiral
Summary: Anya reacts.


Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Note: That's it: EVERYBODY DIES!! Including with Joss Whedon, if I ever meet him in a dark alley! (If this story seems like a departure from my usual, it's because I'm a trifle...UPSET...with the events in "Hell's Bells", and I thought I'd let my favorite character do some venting for both of us.)

  
  


Avenging Anya

  
  


by Darrin Colbourne

  
  


"S-stay back!" Tara says, her face a mask of fear and pain, as she retreats from the one person she always thought she could trust the most with her life. Willow is advancing on her, stalking her much like a lioness would advance on fresh, helpless, meat-on-hooves. Soon Tara is against a wall, trapped, crying like a baby as Willow gets very close.

The redhead's eyes have gone that deep black that shows she's using her full power. She grabs Tara's throat in one hand, squeezes until the blond is gasping for air, then lifts her straight up off the ground.

"I'm tired of you telling me what to do, Cornpone." Willow rasps through her teeth. "Now I'm telling you: I'm going to reshape this world, make it perfect...and you won't stand in my way anymore."

Tara manages to gather enough breath and enough strength to utter a spell: "Sorcero Expirum.."

Willow screams as a bolt of cosmic lightning strikes her from nowhere and engulfs her, wracking her body with pain! Even through that torture she never lets go of Tara. With a strained voice she utters a spell of her own: "Ignatium!"

Now it's Tara's turn to scream as she's engulfed in flames. The two witches are locked in a demonic embrace, being consumed by fire and lightning, rage and lost love. Finally the energies dissipate and they fall to the floor, dead. Willow's pale corpse still has Tara's charred remains in a death grip, strangling her for all eternity.

"Granted." Hallie whispers in my ear.

I turn my attention to another corner of the wedding hall. Buffy and Spike are locked in mortal combat. The vampire has his fangs out and is trying his best to either kill or eat the Slayer, whichever comes first. Buffy is fighting for her very life. Spike has gotten so many good hits in that Buffy's slightly dazed and confused. Even someone with her strength and stamina can't hold out forever.

She's managed to get out a stake, but every time she tries to use it Spike parries her thrust. Soon he has her trapped, her arms held at their sides, her neck bared to him. He extends his fangs as far as he can just before he digs them into her flesh.

As her lifeblood drains from her, Buffy does the only thing she can. She positions the stake just so...and rams it through her own chest. It's just long enough to pierce Spike's heart through her back. The vampire collapses into dust, while the Slayer collapses to the floor, her own heart run through.

"Granted." Isla whispers in my ear.

Another part of the room, and Dawn is pacing back and forth, talking to herself. "Buffy's dead...sacrificed herself...got to save her, got bring her back."

She's brandishing a long, shiny dagger. With the daintiest of strokes she slides the blade across one wrist, then the other, then repeats the action at the veins in her arms. "Shallow cuts, shallow cuts." She murmurs.

Her blood flows freely down her arms, and as rivulets of it hit the floor a portal of swirling flame forms around her. She's suspended above the portal as it spreads, watching with the glee of a small child. She smiles foolishly, as if looking into a wonderful fantasy world as she stares into the portal.

"I'm coming, Buffy." She says, just before she lets herself fall in.

The portal turns into a pillar of fire that stretches to the ceiling. When it dissipates Dawn is laying on the floor where it had been, her lifeless, bloodless body still smiling inanely.

"Granted." Anissa whispers in my ear.

The sound of angry shouting draws my attention to one more part of the room. Xander is sitting in a folding chair, while his father paces around him. Mister Harris is in rare form. His tirades have managed to slam every aspect of Xander's manhood and then some. He shows no signs of tiring or relenting, his drunken state giving him an energy that most sober people can barely muster. He's been going on for what might seem an eternity to a normal person.

For Xander, it actually will be.

I watch as the two Mr. Harrises start to fade away, sent to their own special little corner of Hell. When they are completely gone, I touch the little blue locket around my neck.

"Granted." I whisper to myself.

There is the sound of laughter from behind me, muffled, but hearty and spirited. When it's done, I hear D'Hoffryn say "Well done, my dears. Let us go home now, and welcome your sister back into her family."

The others turn and start to walk out of the room. I stay a moment to survey the dead we'll leave behind. It would have been so simple to avoid. All he had to do was say two little words...not even two words. One letter and one word, and all this would never have happened.

I turn to follow the one family I've ever truly had in a thousand years. As a single tear course down the veins in my cheek, I wonder aloud:

"'I do'. How hard would that have been?"

  
  
  
  


Final Author's Note: Xander...you f***ing dumbass!!


End file.
